


hey alexa am i legally allowed to kill my partner for mocking my coat

by pilynator



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Slice of Life, as in Vanderwood valiantly tries to be a bro in the face of chaos incarnate, it's just bros being bros, saeyoung crossdresses, saeyoung flirts, saeyoung insults the coat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 13:50:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16855162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pilynator/pseuds/pilynator
Summary: Vanderwood does not get paid enough to deal with this.For Saeyoung week 2018.Day 6: agency & crossdressing





	hey alexa am i legally allowed to kill my partner for mocking my coat

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, hey, Tumblr is managed by a confused flock of geese as per usual, so I guess I have to speed up my uploading ahaha.
> 
> Another oldie. I have some actual new things stuck in development hell, it's just been v hard focusing on finishing anything lately. Expect a landslide at some point, when I'll start throwing those babies out into the wild so they can grow into fierce one-shots and band together into an expanded universe.
> 
> **Original A/N** : I always wonder what it was like in that interim between Saeyoung being a depressed mess and Saeyoung being a depressed mess with Extra Meme Power ™. Vanderwood must have been so confused.

‘Could you give me a hand with this?’

The voice was coming from behind a curtain, which currently served as a makeshift barrier between them. Vanderwood peeked over a corner and was greeted with a tangled mess of limbs and cloth that was supposed to be his partner.

‘What are you doing?’

He found himself asking that a lot. The guy was hardworking and quiet and did all his assignments without complaining, which, all things considered, was a pretty sweet arrangement. The last person Vanderwood had had to manage had been a lot more belligerent and not nearly as easy to persuade, so this was a definite improvement on that front.

He did end up feeling more like a part-time parent than a partner sometimes, and working on projects often meant that Vanderwood would basically take up cleaning and cooking duties while 707 did the actual decryption work, but…well, it worked.

At least, as far as the desk jobs were concerned. Field work was a different thing. For one thing, 707 was still very,  _very_ young. Vanderwood had tried to argue against it, but it was always hard to get management to change their mind about anything once the paperwork had been signed off on all the way to the top. For another, they’d recently decided that, since he was so young, he could pick up some of the mission overflow from their female agents.

This is how Vanderwood found himself trying to make sense of the scene in front of him. Surely it couldn’t be so hard to put on a damn dress?

707 smiled and whirled around to face him.

‘Ah, Madame, just the person I was looking for. Could you help me with the ribbons?’

‘The…ribbons.’ Vanderwood tried to keep his voice as flat as possible. Maybe if he pretended to be uninterested in taking the bait they could move out faster and get this over with. The kid had recently picked up a taste for provoking a reaction and it was proving to be a lot more troublesome than he’d anticipated.

‘Yeah, ribbons. I did the ones on the front and sides, but I can’t get to the ones in the back.’

‘Why do you need ribbons? Why,’ Vanderwood waved his arm around in a big arc, encompassing the mess on the floor, ‘do you need any of  _this_?’ He kicked a discarded pair of shoes to emphasise his point. Not too hard, though. They were nice shoes.

‘Realism.’

‘Rea –‘ he had to stop and take a long breath to calm himself down.  _Remember that he’s barely an adult. Remember that he wants you to get angry._  ‘Realism? There’s nothing realistic about ribbons. You’re a maid, you’re supposed to…I don’t know. Dust around. Cook. You don’t need any of this for that. Just put on some normal clothes.’

‘It  _is_  realistic. Maids are supposed to be cute.’

Was he…pouting? Vanderwood blinked twice, very slowly, and then took in the deepest breath he’d ever taken in his entire life. It would be, he had to remind himself for the nth time that week,  _uncouth_  to murder his partner. More paperwork than he could be bothered to fill in, at least.

‘Choi, maids aren’t supposed to be cute. You shouldn’t even be seen. This is an  _infiltration_. In and out, two hours tops. I’m not fixing anything for you. Take the damn ribbons off and I’ll see you in the lobby in ten minutes.  _Be there_.’

And with that, Vanderwood stomped away, eager to cool off at least a little bit before the mission, lest he attempt to throw his partner out of a window. It was incredible the way 707 managed to rile him up like this. The brat used to be so much sweeter when he was young. He was turning into a menace by the day!

Wait. No.  _Sweet_?

‘God, I need a smoke.’

To his credit, Seven had kept to the ten minute deadline and Vanderwood was pleased to note that the disguise looked significantly plainer. He’d taken off the ribbons and even put on some sensible shoes.

‘Glad to see you’ve taken my advice on board.’

‘Yeah, I figured you’d know a lot about whether or not maids are supposed to be cute. You have a lot of experience, after all,’ Seven replied, smoothing down the front of his skirt. He was avoiding eye contact but seemed just a tad too smug for it to be because of nerves.

‘Uh, yes. I guess I would.’

707 was straight up grinning now and Vanderwood felt out of his depth for a moment. Surely this guy wasn’t implying what he seemed to be implying, right? Shaking his head to get rid of the distinct feeling that he was being teased, he checked his watch.

‘Well, we’ve got half an hour until we have to go. I thought we could get a head start and have some time to run over the briefing again, but it’s up to you. What do you think?’

Seven raised his hands in a placating gesture.

‘Ah, I was hoping I could get some time to do my make-up. I’m not very good at it and the car shakes too much.’ He suddenly looked distressed. ‘Seriously, Vaderwood, you need to get a new one. I can help you choose something, if you want.’

‘No. It’s vintage.’

‘It’s a death trap is what it is,’ came the mumbled reply, but 707 seemed content to drop the subject for now. He was already rummaging through his backpack and brought up a hand mirror and a pile of make-up containers. Vanderwood opened his mouth to comment on the amount the brat had collected since the last time he’d seen this particular mission pack, but then decided against it. He really didn’t want to know about it. He really,  _really_ didn’t want to know.

Seven propped up the mirror on the armrest and dropped unceremoniously to the floor to finish applying the rest of his disguise.

‘Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to give me some tips.’

‘Some tips on what?’

‘Make-up.’

‘Oh, that.’ Vanderwood shrugged and started pacing around the room. ‘I don’t know that much about it. I can get you in touch with the costume department if you want, though. They should have a lot of resources if you need them.’

‘Really?’ That seemed to cheer him up. He was bouncing a little on the floor. ‘Nice. That would be great, yeah. Are you sure you don’t know anything about it, though?’

‘What makes you say that?’ Vanderwood realised the danger he was in a second too late, just as 707 turned around to give him a smug look. He’d only managed to put on some winged eyeliner on one side of his face and it made him look like an inquisitive bird.

‘Oh, I just thought you look like a guy who went through an embarrassing phase of trying to make it big with a glam rock revival band. You know, with your whole,’ and here he nodded pointedly at his coat, ‘style and everything. Figured you’d have some experience with it.’

Vanderwood blanched, then felt his entire bloodstream rush to his face in a silent protest, and finally settled on indignant fury. Making fun of the coat was one thing. It was a horrible betrayal, but a minor one compared to the sheer nerve this  _baby_  had to mock his style when he wore that horrific traffic light coloured hoodie everywhere.

Vanderwood was seething.

‘Bold words for someone who always looks like he's just finished rolling through a pile of clothes and kept whatever stuck to him.’

707 just laughed and finished off the other eye. He was getting better at it, Vanderwood realised. He grit his teeth and prayed the rest of the mission wouldn’t be as stressful as the past half hour had been; it was getting increasingly difficult to resist just setting his whole pack of cigarettes on fire and shoving it in his mouth for a quick pick-me-up.

‘Just hurry up and let’s go. I refuse to waste any more time here if all you’re going to do is insult the coat.’

‘Coming, coming!’ The brat was already packing up the make-up and throwing it unceremoniously in the backpack, making a hollow plastic noise as they hit the equipment in there. Vanderwood winced. State of the art electronics and yet here he was, watching their prize agent hit everything with his other belongings.

Seven hoisted the bag on one shoulder and saluted.

‘Okay, I’m ready to go and seduce the target.’

Vanderwood stared.

‘Wha –‘ he started, and then, for the nth time that day, reminded himself who he was dealing with. ‘No. Stop that. No seducing. You know it’s information collection only.’

‘Not when I’m around.’ Seven did a little twirl and blew a kiss. ‘You’re supposed to catch it,’ he complained when Vanderwood continued to stand there, but that unearthly confidence left him quickly as soon as the taser came up. ‘What’s up with that?’

‘Aren’t you glad you took my advice and wore flats instead of heels?’

707 looked uneasy.

‘Uh…’

‘You better start running. And get the engine ready.’


End file.
